


Three Sat at a Table

by beng



Series: Arrangements From Afterlife [1]
Category: Dragon Age II, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Battle of Hogwarts fix-it, Gen, Kirkwall fix-it, Multiverse, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beng/pseuds/beng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin, Snape and Hawke meet in afterlife for a bit of a whining fest and an attempt to get drunk, but thanks to Mahal/Merlin/Maker, there might be a loophole in their instructions that lets them set their failures to rights. The catch? They cannot return to their own respective worlds. Looks like they will have to trust each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Sat at a Table

**Author's Note:**

> It is assumed here that Hawke died in a bandit attack some time after Kirkwall. The other two died their canon deaths.

Three black-haired people were sitting at a table in a folk club and trying to talk over the din of bagpipe music.

“You had it easy,” grumbled the stocky black-haired man as he hugged his pint of beer and bent over the table to hear his companions better.  “You didn’t have to fight a dragon and then a battle of five armies just to get back what was yours by birth right.”

“Indeed not, Mr. Oakenshield,” drawled the taller black-haired man nursing a glass of whiskey and wincing at the music. “Nevertheless, I have fought my own battles, serving two masters, and both of them master manipulators, to protect the life of an ungrateful boy, the only one who could end the war once and for all. I have lived in the darkness for nearly twenty years, and there is none that do not despise me.”

The black-haired woman huffed as she stared into her glass of vodka.

“I _started_ a war,” she murmured. “I helped my lover destroy a cathedral full of people, I killed the city’s templar force, I killed their leader, and the leader of mages, and then I killed my lover. Whole circles of mages have been annulled, and countless apostates have been executed without a trial. My friends are exiled, my family dead, and the whole land is on fire because of me. And, for the record, Thorin, I _have_ fought dragons quite successfully.”

The one she’d called Thorin sighed.

“My family is also dead because of me. My nephews died protecting me, and my brother, father and grandfather perished because I was too proud and stupid to stop their march on Moria. However, I don’t understand what’s so bad about living in darkness, Master Snape. Dwarves have lived under the mountains since the beginning of time with no ill effects.”

“I meant it metaphorically, Mr. Oakenshield,” the taller man sniffed derisively. “The only good thing I can say is that I have never had any family. The closest thing to kin I ever had was a woman I loved all those years ago and whose death is on my hands. In this I understand you Miss Hawke.”

“No you don’t!” the woman threw her empty glass on the table and flagged the waitress for a refill. “I aided his madness for almost ten years, I supported him in everything and then I KILLED him, Snape — it was literally my hand that drove the dagger into his back.”

“Still better than betraying your love through some stupid prophecy executed by a madman, then miraculously getting a second chance, then killing your benefactor, who is the only person to ever know of your true allegiance, at his own behest, and then presenting the madman with the ultimate weapon to kill the son of your beloved and to enslave a whole country.”

“Your actions have been implicit, whereas I have _personally_ left a whole city in rubble and made thousands of people a target for templar vengeance, Snape.”

“Miss Hawke, sorry as I am for your loss, I would point out that your problems could have been easily averted if only you had some level of subtlety exceeding that of a drunken Gryffindor and the least bit of understanding about simple chemical reactions familiar to a first-year.”

“Did you just say I was uneducated?!”

Thorin sat back with his pint and grimly watched the interaction of his drinking buddies, then added his own two cents.

“From what you say, Master Snape, it follows that you spent some twenty years of your life with the sole instruction to keep a boy safe, and you failed because a snake bit you? All the time pining away after a long-dead woman who never loved you in the first place? Master Snape, you are whining like a dwarfling.”

Snape narrowed his black eyes at Thorin.

“ _You_ died because of your pride and greed, Mr. Oakenshield. You never had the mental fortitude that I had, and even knowing that I failed, I dare you to do better in my stead.”

Thorin grinned.

“Your people’s problem, Master Snape, is reliance on magic sticks instead of a good sword and some sturdy chainmail. I mean, you knew your master had a snake, why didn’t you wear any mail under that robe of yours?”

“Boys, stop it,” Hawke interrupted. “It’s fine to wish we had done things differently but the fact remains that we didn’t. And we can’t go back and change it. But if I could go to Middle-earth, I think I would have dealt with the dragon without him burning down Laketown. What were you thinking anyway, Thorin, trying to kill him with molten gold? Don’t you know dragons are immune to fire? You either freeze it or use blood magic to get past its armour, every mage knows that!”

“Fine, then go back and do it better if you’re so smart! The only wizard we ever had was Gandalf, and he’s only good with light-based spells,” Thorin scoffed and sat back with his arms crossed over his wide chest.

Snape froze and inhaled sharply.

“Miss Hawke, Mr. Oakenshield… We _can_. We were told we can never return to our worlds but we _were_ asked to come up with a plan of what we want to do next. So… shall I spell it out for you?”

Hawke glared at him.

“You’ll fuck up Kirkwall even worse than I did, Snape.”

“You forget I’m a Slytherin, Miss Hawke. And I’ve walked the fine line between two political forces for half my life.”

“So what, you think you can keep peace between Meredith and Orsino? What about Anders and his explosives? What about the repression of mages? Can you prevent that?”

“I should think I can, Miss Hawke. You forget my world has a variety of mental manipulation spells to offer. Even if my magic does not work in Thedas, I believe I can alter some of the Entropy spells you told me about.”

Hawke still looked sceptical, but the way Snape explained it… It could actually work. The trick would be to decide on the moment in time when the events reached the critical mass, and to interfere before it. She was not sure how this afterlife and time-travelling thing worked, but if, in the end, she knew with certainty that there was at least one world or timeline where Anders did not have to die, she would finally be at peace.

“Deal,” she said. Snape allowed himself a crooked smile and immediately became lost in thought.

“Now, as for your mountain, Thorin…”

“No, Hawke, I’m not letting you go to Erebor to perform blood magic rituals in the halls of my forefathers! It is completely out of the question!” objected the dwarf, forcefully slamming his pint on the table and adding an angry cutting gesture for emphasis.

“Is the sanctity of your halls more important to you than the lives of people of Laketown? Than the lives of elves and dwarves and men that will die in the battle if your pile of gold is not fairly split to get your allies back on time? Do you value the lives of your nephews lower than some blood spilt by a mage to get rid of that dragon?”

“No, but…”

“Thorin, don’t be ridiculous!”

“It is my home and gold that has been accumulated by the line of Durin over long centuries of toil and trade! Thranduil does not deserve one coin of it!”

“THAT is the attitude that failed you last time!”

Thorin shut his mouth and sat back. He had to admit that there was some truth to what Hawke said. And besides, if she got rid of the dragon before it razed Laketown then that would reduce any later claims from the Men.

“Alright,” he sighed after a moment. “Go and try your magic, woman. Just make sure that you consult Balin on what can be given to that ponce of a king and what are ancient dwarven artefacts or family heirlooms. May Mahal’s hammer shield you.”

As Hawke picked up her staff from the corner and pulled on her gloves before leaving, Thorin turned his gaze on Snape.

“I guess that leaves me to deal with your snake and the boy, Master Snape,” he said.

Jarred from his thoughts, Snape glared at him.

“Mr. Oakenshield, if I thought you were in any way suited to walking the fine line between darkness and light, between madness, pain and loyalty, if you could suffer the contempt of your allies and still retain your master’s trust in spite of all the abhorrent things he might ask you to do…”

“Cut the poetics and calm down, Snape. I intend to return only some moments before the battle began,” Thorin said with a grin on his face and his left hand on the pommel of his sword Orcrist. “Somehow I doubt your stick-wielder of a master would be expecting some honest steal.”

Snape crossed his arms and tapped his chin.

“You seem quite confident, Oakenshield.”

“I’m a warrior and a king. Fighting is what I _do_ , and I have protected my people for more than a century. I understand that your people use only ranged attacks, and perhaps I’m not the best advisor on magical protection, but I certainly have something to say about ramparts, ditches, trenches and other infantry obstacles, as well as evacuation routes, bridges and corridors. Your castle will be fine, Snape, same as your boy.”

“Then it’s a deal, Mr. Oakenshield. Go and do what I could not, and end the Dark Lord’s reign.”

Thorin nodded and stood up. He put on his fur-lined coat and smirked at the stage where a pagan metal band blared something on drums, bagpipes and electric guitars. Snape was frowning, as he too stood up and righted his cuffs.

“Let us never come back here again, agreed?”

“Aye. Let’s do things right this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I admit the premise is crazy, and the execution might be lacking, and English is not my first language, and this has not been betaed, and in fact this will most probably remain a one-shot forever, but, well. I thought the similarities and the possible solutions to their problems were worth a short story at least :)


End file.
